


I'll Never Let You Go

by spookyookykitty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, No explicit mentions of suicide but it is implied, Saddness, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyookykitty/pseuds/spookyookykitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As kids they used to think they were invincible. It hurts to think how wrong they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Never Let You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Was feeling sad so I wrote this. This is my first non-happy fic ever actually, so feedback would be amazing.

When Steve got the call, it was worse than Bucky falling off the train. Because he finally had him back after all that time. He had another chance. And now it was gone.

They said the memories were just too much for him to handle. That the guilt was eating him alive. He couldn’t deal with the knowledge of what he’d done, and he was too broken to fix.

He asks to see the footage for the last day. He knows he shouldn’t but he has to. He has to know what he looked like, what happened. He needs to know.

The footage is uneventful, most of the days he had just been huddled in the corner, sitting in the fetal position, head buried in his knees, hands tugging at his hair. If he turns up the volume he hears him muttering over and over, “you did it. It was you.”

As a kid Steve was sure he and Bucky would be together forever. That the sunny days walking down the boardwalk of Coney Island together would never end. The smiles stretched over their faces would never slip. The love in Bucky’s eyes would never fade. That the hand holding his, in the safety of their apartment, would never let go. 

He remembered the first time Bucky saved him from bullies. The first time his breath caught, not because of asthma, but because of the smile shining down on him. He remembers the feel of Bucky’s hand when he helped him up. 

In the dark of the night, when they were cuddled under the covers, they would whisper about the future. About the world changing but their love never fading. 

They would hold each other close and whisper promises. Seal their words with sweet kisses and soft smiles.

Looking down at Bucky’s cold body on the table he can’t help but think he was the one that broke the promise first.

“I’ll always be here Steve.”  
“I’ll never let you go Buck.”

But he did. 

Steve let go and Bucky fell to something worse than death. 

Maybe Bucky was always meant to die. On Zola’s table, at the bottom of that mountain, in his room at SHIELD.

As kids they used to think they were invincible. It hurts to think how wrong they were. 

Closing his eyes he can still see Bucky’s smile. Can still feel his hand entwined with his. Can still hear his words whispered under the cheap blankets. 

Steve was familiar with pain. He was familiar with sadness. He was familiar with loss. But he wasn’t familiar with this kind of pain. There was no one to blame. There was no enemy in this scenario. 

Just a man who made a decision.

And now Steve would have to live with it, and without him.

As a kid Steve was sure he and Bucky would be together forever. But life never seemed to work out the way he wanted. Sometimes he wondered if he did something wrong. Was he being punished for his sins? For the sin of love? 

Steve knew there were no answers and that made it hurt worse. Being left with a million questions and knowing he’d never get the peace of closure. Never be able to ask Bucky why.

Never be able to sit, curled on their ripped up easy chair, sketching Bucky as he tried to get their second hand record player to work. The stylings of Glenn Miller drifting through the air, as Bucky dragged Steve from the chair and sweep him into a dance. The two laughing as Steve stepped on the other man’s feet. Bucky complaining that for someone so small and skinny he still bruised his toes.

Never hear the word “punk” after he tossed out the word “jerk”. 

The “never’s” swarmed around his head, and his mind searched for the last thing he had said to the man.

He’d visited yesterday. Bucky hadn’t been responsive like usual, but Steve sat in the room for hours, just reminiscing out loud, sharing his favorite stories. When his time was up he stood up, walked over to Bucky and keeled down next to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Buck. I’ll have a surprise for you. My favorite memory. I’ve been saving it.” He had said, before righting himself and brushing off his pants and leaving the room. 

He had looked back one last time before the door closed. 

As 19 year olds they had walked down the boardwalk of Coney Island, celebrated the 4th of July by watching the fireworks and drinking bottles of Coke with the money Bucky had saved up from the past few weeks of odd jobs. When they got home that night Bucky had pulled Steve into the bedroom and pulled out a poorly wrapped present from under the bed. A new sketchbook and charcoals. He had saved all year for them. Said Steve only deserved the best.

That night when they laid under the covers they whispered their promises to one another before falling asleep with smiles on their faces. 

It had been the best day of Steve’s life. 

And it had been exactly 77 years ago.


End file.
